without a pot to piss in a rifle fires a caw of crows on cardboard on tents white wax burns the fingers god spits the residue the air shatters prayers candles made of glass moths bite to chase starlight casualties grow the rack holes of winter sweaters bark beetles eat the wooden floors backlogged services old brochures for caskets the mortuary is full a child is forced to hug hang barbwire another crunches on pixels of affection a band of copper horses trots down a polluted trail of power the clack of their steel hooves cracks con- crete silver dollars […]

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